


A Good Fight

by LSquared80



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jaime wandering, Set sometime after their first time but before the sadness, Sparring in the bedroom, Spoilers up to 8.04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 02:37:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18791290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LSquared80/pseuds/LSquared80
Summary: Jaime gets pulled into Brienne's training and the demonstration leads to a more private sparring session.Or, Brienne's boyfriend visits her at work and gets turned on.





	A Good Fight

**“We enjoy a good fight. It gets our juices flowing.”  
-Jaime Lannister**

 

“Make yourself useful, Lannister.” 

 

At first, it was said with spite. Stripped of any prefix. _Lannister_. A curse word in Winterfell. 

 

It was a phrase Jaime heard quite often following the battle and his decision to stay in the North. When he wasn’t with Brienne, he wandered the grounds. He was handed tools to help rebuild the stairs to the library tower and once found himself learning to forge a spear. He worked often in the stables. Even kneaded dough. 

 

Eventually, Jaime began to hear it said with an air of camaraderie. Some had even taken to calling him Ser. He enjoyed the work rather than partaking in it to earn their approval. He sought it out. 

 

x 

 

He woke alone, sighing at the empty side of the bed. Jaime could sense he’d slept later than usual and it was confirmed when he finally dressed and left Brienne’s chambers. It was quiet until he walked outside. Everyone was far into their day’s duties, including the children. The little ones ran and spun and the older children practiced archery. He walked past a huddle of young ladies with needlepoint on their laps and smiled with a courtly nod, receiving the same in return. 

 

Jaime stopped at the kitchen and found only one piece of bread and a handful of figs left. It was enough to end the incessant growling of his stomach. 

 

He wandered toward the courtyard, drawn there by the booming commands of Brienne to her soldiers. Their eyes locked and she flashed the briefest of smiles, proud and the slightest bit embarrassed that Jaime had come to watch her work. 

 

One of the young men was struggling with a move and Brienne’s eyes searched for the right person to demonstrate with her. She pivoted toward Jaime and said, “Make yourself useful,” with a gleam in her eye. 

 

Jaime’s eyes roamed the collection of young soldiers. They all knew of him as the Kingslayer, but following the defeat of the Night King, he had earned their respect. Unlike their parents, they could more easily forgive and forget. They could only hope to be as good with two hands as Ser Jaime Lannister was with one. 

 

He took the tourney sword of the nearest boy and approached Brienne. He knew she too was thinking of their battle on the bridge all those years ago, when he was her captive. Even then it was more than a fight. It was more elegant than brutal, more a flirtation than a threat. 

 

Brienne stood before him and described the trouble her student was having with defense. She suspected he had not built enough upper body strength to catch the full force of a blow with his sword without crashing to the ground. “Ready, Ser Jaime?” she asked, failing to hide a grin as she took the proper stance. 

 

His pulse raced, thinking how far they’d come since he spat _wench_ at her, striking her with insults. “Yes, Ser Brienne.” 

 

Their demonstration was slow, restrained. Brienne stopped here and there to explain a move and Jaime watched her with great admiration. Soon, though, the two of them were caught up in the dance – grinning and grunting and breaking a sweat. Truly challenging one another. Putting on a show even though they’d all but forgotten the audience. They were moving in circles, one always chasing the other. The swords came together again and again. They were parrying and lunging, faster and faster until suddenly Jaime was on his back and the blunt end of Brienne’s sword was pressed to his throat. She hovered above him - her knee pressing down on his abdomen, breathing hard, her cheeks rosy. 

 

Jaime’s eyes were locked on her mouth. He wanted to reach up, grab a fistful of her thick hair, and crush her lips to his – yielding to her. He was half hard, grateful for the North’s many layers. 

 

It took Podrick clearing his throat and loudly suggesting a break for the two of them to snap out of the trance. Brienne hopped back, rising to her full height, while Jaime stayed sitting on the ground for a moment longer. He refused her offered hand, thinking the slightest contact with her skin would only heighten his arousal. 

 

x 

 

The remainder of the day conspired to keep Jaime apart from Brienne. She was needed by Sansa then called to council. Jaime moved about the grounds, watching her, and when he knew she was finally headed to her chambers for the first time since morning he rushed to be there first. 

 

He stood, waiting, so that she came upon him as she climbed the last step and turned the corner. 

 

She startled. “Jaime!” 

 

He grinned and hooked his fingers around her leather belt, tugging as he walked backward toward the room. Brienne’s face – initially surprised, a little annoyed – blushed with understanding. “Jaime,” she said again, low and raspy. 

 

Nudging the door open, he pulled Brienne inside. “I’ve waited all day to get you alone,” he told her and shut the door. 

 

She noticed Jaime had already stripped down to just his breeches and tunic. Brienne, though, was in full armor. She began to remove her belt and he took Oathkeeper from her, gently setting it aside. Their three hands worked to shed her of the heavy steel pieces, the task more difficult in their urgency to complete it. Her elbow struck the bridge of Jaime’s nose and he released a litany of _bloody hells_ as he struggled. They moved about the room, grunting and straining, fighting with the armor and the garments underneath to reach an end that finally came when Brienne nearly kicked her smallclothes into the fire. 

 

They stood inches apart, panting, wiping the sweat from their brows. Brienne heaved a sigh and lunged for Jaime, grabbing the hem of his tunic and forcefully drawing it up and over his head. She yanked the rest of his clothing down his hips, falling to her knees with a grunt as she worked his last remaining garments down to his ankles and shucked them aside. 

 

He looked down at her head, his erection a whisper away from her mouth. Jaime twitched with tension, anticipation, wonder. He began to speak, to remind her she never had to do anything she did not wish to, but the words came out in a strangled cry when Brienne’s lips touched the head of his cock. She tasted him, drawing the tip in between her lips and grazing him with her tongue. She released him with a shaky breath and stood from the ground. 

 

Jaime’s eyes appraised her from head to toe – her hair a little wild, bruises faded to a sallow yellow. He lingered near her hips where there were newer bruises the shape of his fingertips, and then to the tuft of golden hair between her legs. He took a step forward, but she backed away almost to the wall. Brienne’s teeth scraped across her bottom lip and she challenged him with her eyes, with her pose – one hand sliding from her belly downward, languidly stroking between her legs. 

 

Gods, he thought, she was going to give him the sort of fight he craved. 

 

He rushed to her, and when she turned from him, Jaime caught her with his arm around her waist. He pulled her backside flush against him, rolling his hips. His hand replaced Brienne’s and he moved his fingers in circles, faster and faster until he suddenly stopped, making her groan at the loss. 

 

She turned and held her hand to the center of his chest, driving Jaime’s back up against the wall. She held him there, adding her other hand when he tried to move. He grinned, feeling a sense of pride at the way Brienne didn’t hold back her strength around him, and feeling excited by the way she seemed to enjoy pushing her boundaries and trying new things. 

 

Brienne held him against the wall and bent to kiss his neck, trailing her lips down and along his collarbone, her teeth nipping at his skin. She dragged her palm down his chest, over his nipple and back up, watching his face to see what was pleasurable for him. 

 

Jaime shivered when she danced her fingers along his ribcage, and then banged his head against the wall when his entire body convulsed at the feel of her strong fingers curling around his cock. She squeezed, varying the pressure, and pumped him inside the tight coil of her fist. “Fuck,” he hissed, and said it again when she let go. 

 

They locked eyes and again when Jaime reached for her, she backed up. He caught her by the arm and she reached to clasp her hand at the back of his neck. They spun once, twice, landing on the bed in a tangle of limbs. He ended up on top of Brienne, and seemed to declare himself the winner with a lascivious smile and lick of his lips. But just as he bent to close his mouth around her breast, she used her knee to push against his belly and flip Jaime onto his back. 

 

He did not protest when Brienne climbed over him. He yielded to her, sucking a hiss of breath between his lips when she lifted her hips and sank down on him. She held her hands on his stomach and he felt the edge of her nails, sharp against his skin as she dug into him. She was in control, bouncing up and down until she leaned forward and Jaime reached up, his left hand tight around the back of her neck. He pulled Brienne forward until she collapsed against him. 

 

Jaime bucked his hips wildly beneath her, eliciting a chorus of moans and yelps. His fingers slid into the thick hair at the back of her head and tugged, the sensation driving her from quick sparks of pleasure to her climax. She quaked against him and Jaime held her head to his chest. He lifted his neck from the bed and opened his mouth against her shoulder, crying his own release against her skin. 

 

Their breathing slowed and Brienne rolled away enough to curl up against his side. Jaime held his arm around her and asked, “Will you need my assistance with training tomorrow, Ser Brienne?”


End file.
